


The Glistening of Fangs

by Spiritmoon23



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Abuse Mentions, Alternate Universe - Vampire, M/M, NA bros, mildly nsfw in some places, noncon implied (kind of)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-27
Updated: 2017-11-27
Packaged: 2019-02-07 09:33:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 7,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12838350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spiritmoon23/pseuds/Spiritmoon23
Summary: I know he doesn't love me. But He does.Maybe He can help me...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> updates to this will be slow as i have a tendency to forget this exists (i've paused this fic three times now, and have been writing it for almost a year)

Arthur came home, the house clean and tidy and quiet, just like it always was. Well, it was more recently that this started happening; ever since he had brought home his new bank, whose name was Matthew Williams. He looked quite a lot like Alfred, who was his most favored bank.

For the first week or so, Arthur had wondered why there was such a sudden and drastic change in the dark house's atmosphere, but he found himself unable to care enough to look into it more.

It's been six months since then, and he enjoyed the new, more subdued behavior of his banks. So today was a day just like any other.

"Alfred, Matthew, Jett, Toby! I'm back!" he called down the front corridor, taking his jacket off and hanging it on the rack next to the door.

His banks came from all over the world, since he favored traveling and conquering areas away from home. It was something that he could trace back all the way to when he was a pirate a long time ago.

The first of the current set of banks was Alfred, who came from America. He came across the boy in New York. He had been in his last year of college, with high honors and very close to graduation, having finished his archaeology masters year at the age of nineteen. Alfred had already been planning digs around the world with a group who quickly noticed and took advantage of his potential. The thing that had drawn Arthur in the most, however, was the clinginess of him. He found that if he could form a friendship with him, then he would be able to convince the American to come back to England with him and become his long-term bank. 

Then, on a trip to Australia, he had come across Jett and Toby living together on the streets and trying to get by about a year and a half after he had gotten Alfred. They were siblings, with Toby being the younger of the two by about a year, poor, and homeless. When he offered to take them somewhere with food and shelter, they accepted without a moment's hesitation, thinking that anywhere would be better than where they were.

He came across Matthew in Paris, although he had informed Arthur that he was actually from Canada and had come over to Europe for schooling, then later was taken in by the vampire of France, Francis. Arthur found him in a stip club on a quest for a good bar after a long day of meeting with some of the executives from his company. When he saw the curly haired blond, he immediately had to have him, and brought him home with him later that night. He heard about it for weeks, but of course, the frog wouldn't do anything about it; Arthur was one of the strongest vampires in all of Europe, and no one challenged him for banks.

Now, all four men stood before him, heads bowed slightly and hands clasped behind their backs. He had worked hard to train them to greet him this way; it was simple and organized. The only one he still sometimes had problems with was the ever-energetic Alfred, but he was usually just as good as everyone else. To put it simply, they were all very happy.

"Jett, Toby, you're dismissed." He waved his hand, motioning for them to leave. They complied with the command quickly. Arthur was careful to only feed on two of them, and only every other night, so as to let their bodies recover and heal themselves before doing it again then next night.

Alfred shifted his weight from one foot to the other. He didn't like having to stand still for such a long time, but he didn't want to get punished again like the last time he let his restlessness get the better of him.

Arthur waited until the Australians were back in their rooms before leading the pair of blonds into the basement. Both banks walked softly behind him, moving over to a padded table in the middle of the room and laying across it, side by side, on their stomachs with their hands clasped together between them.

What can I say? Arthur likes to play with his food.


	2. Chapter 2

Alfred rubbed his bruised, red side. He had been very content with living with his vampire for quite a long time; three years, to be exact. But now the dark house was too dark, the atmosphere too stifling, the play too rough and unloving, the bites too sharp, and Alfred wasn't happy being held there anymore.

He wished that he could be lucky enough to find another, hopefully nicer or more loving, but at least less oppressive vampire to live under. Alfred liked his freedom, but it had been much too long since he's lived by himself that he didn't think he could do it anymore. 

So, on that night, he planned his escape. He'd been talking it over with Matthew pretty much since he had arrived. Originally, he had been opposed to the idea.

"You know that he'll just find you again," he had said. Alfred didn't listen, convinced that he could evade the powerful man's grasp just long enough to get far enough away to be safe. That's all he needed to do: get away. He could worry about what to do with himself after he was gone.

Now, the blond stood, one hand on the strap of his backpack, and one gripping the edge of the windowsill. It was raining and particularly dark tonight, so his scent wouldn't be traceable, even with Arthur's enhanced abilities. No one could follow him.

"this is it, then?" He jumped at the soft voice right behind him. Alfred turned around slowly, blue eyes locking with dark purple ones. He sighed, pulling the other into an embrace.

"Yep. Guess it is." Alfred released him and turned to face the rain once more, swinging his legs over the edge, and disappeared into the wet night.

"God's speed, Al."

He didn't turn around.

\--------------

Alfred stumbled through the dense fog, pulling his hood up over his damp hair. The condensation was so thick in the air that he couldn't see but a meter or two in front of him.

He tripped over a large rivet in the sidewalk, landing on his left wrist and felt the pain shoot straight up his arm. He sat back and rubbed his throbbing wrist.

Great, he thought, a sprained wrist is exactly what I need right now. It's been 'most a week by now, and he had made his way across Europe, coming across help in several countries.

First he came across an intimidating vampire named Berwald and his friendly bank named Tino. They lived with a trio of witches, whose names were Mathias, Lukas, and Emil. They had given him a place to sleep for a night, and he was very sad to have to say goodbye to them. 

Then he went southward, encountering a pair of Italian twins who were also vampires. One of them was sharp-tongued, and had a Spanish bank that he yelled at a lot, but you could see the protective fire in his eye if you bothered to look. The other one of the brothers was a bit smaller and nicer, with two German banks that he treasured. One was very serious and kind of intimidating, while the other was a lot like himself. They, too, let him stay a night at their house.

After leaving their company, he traveled east, where he had heard of a very powerful, very feared vampire holding territory. He knew that if he could find someone powerful enough that Arthur wouldn't be able to follow him. But, finding someone more powerful than Arthur, king of the United Kingdom, was going to be incredibly hard, but he had to try.

He now found himself somewhere in Ukraine. He knew what country he was in, but he didn't know where specifically. Alfred had studied for a long time, so he could fluently speak English(obviously), Spanish, Japanese for his friend Kiku, and Russian, but none of that was helping him now; he can't speak Ukrainian and he can't read Cyrillic. 

"Vybachte, z toboyu vse harazd?"  he heard a voice ask above him. He sat back and looked up, seeing a figure above him. At first he had a hard time figuring out what it was, since her bust was so large, but when she leaned over, he figured it out rather quickly.

"Eh, do you speak Russian?" Alfred tried tentatively.

"Yes," she replied, "Are you okay?" repeated, in Russian this time. 

"I'm fine. Could you just... just tell me where I am? See, I can't read Cyrillic and I don't speak Ukrainian. I'm trying to get to Russia."

"Russia? We're very close to Russia. Why aren't you driving? It would get you there much faster."

"I would, but I don't have a car, and I don't have enough money to take a train."

The woman paused, then practically scooped him up in her arms, which was impressive, since she was shorter than him by what he thought was about two or three inches, and he was no lightweight.

"You should come with me! I live very near the border. You could sleep at my house tonight and eat a decent meal, then be on your way again!"

Alfred had regained his balance, and gaped at this woman, completely dumbstruck. Would she really open her home to someone like him? And how was she so strong? He had a sneaking suspicion that she was also some supernatural, but he was too afraid of scaring her to ask.

"Are you sure? I wouldn't want to bother you any," he worried aloud.

"Oh, it's no problem at all! I like having guests in my lonely home. You see, it's only my sister and me now, since my parents died and my brother left. But he comes back and visits sometimes."

He listened to her tell him all about her family and her siblings that she pretty much raised, since their mother was a drunk and their father died in the Siberian winter a while ago, though she didn't say how long. They walked down the sidewalk, dodging figures in the fog and slowly making their way back to this woman's, whose name was Katyusha, she said, home. She reminded him of his brother when he was excited about the newest video game or his favorite hockey team winning.

He would go back for him as soon as he could, Alfred promised himself. But he needed to find the General of the North first.


	3. Chapter 3

Alfred walked through the door of the house and was immediately greeted by the smell of something sweet baking.

"Natalya! I'm home!" she called, taking her coat off and hanging it up on the rack next to the door. Another woman emerged from the kitchen. She had light colored hair pulled back in a long ponytail, bangs held out of her face with a while headband. She wiped her hands on a dark blue, flour covered apron.

"Who is this?" she asked, not an ounce of warmth in her voice. She eyed him coldly.

"This is..." she looked at him out of the corner of her eye.

"Alfred." he supplied quickly.

"He's making his way to Russia and I offered him a place to stay!" Katyusha said cheerfully. Natalya shot something at her in what he assumed was Ukrainian, and Katyusha said something calmly back. She looked to Alfred apologetically.

"The guest room is up the stairs, down the hall, third door on the right." She turned back to the other woman and went back to speaking in their foreign tongue.

Alfred turned and began making his way up the stairs, looking at all of the different pictures lining the walls. There were many, mostly of Katyusha and her siblings. There seemed to be pictures from all types of cameras and time periods. He had not thought that there was anything different sbout them in the beginning, so he just assumed that they liked photography, although all of the pictured were very, very old looking.

Once he got to the indicated room, he stepped inside and shut the door behind him quietly. Alfred toed off his shoes and collapsed on the end of the bed, not caring to cover himself or strip out of his dirty clothes. He fell asleep to the warm smell of baking bread and cinnamon.

\---------

Alfred woke to the familiar light pressure and pinch of fangs burying themselves in his neck. Groggily, he shifted himself so he was a bit more comfortable and let himself wake up slowly, eyes still closed. This was a rather common occurrence; when Arthur was leaving for work, he would go to Alfred for something quick to eat since he was the heaviest sleeper. 

It wasn't until the fangs were gone that he remembered that he was, in fact, on the border of Ukraine and Russia and had left his last master's house over an entire week ago.

His blue eyes shot open and he shrieked, tumbling backwards off of the bed and landing on the hardwood floor in a tangle of sheets. "Owww. Fucking fuck!" he cursed, struggling to untangle himself from the blankets. The initial shock faded slightly.

He rubbed the back of his head and looked around what part of the room was visible. Nothing was out of the ordinary, so he thought he had just imagined it. "Woah, trippy."

But when he went to sit back up, an ash-blond head popped over the side of the bed, startling him yet again and making him shoot back and against the wall with a surprised exclamation.

"Are you alright?" the new person asked. Alfred looked at him, bewilderment clearly visible on his face. For once in his life he was truly thankful that he slept with all of his clothes on.

"No I'm not alright! You can't just do that without permission! You scared me!" Alfred spat, crossing his arms indignantly. "Who are you, anyway?" He studied the features of the person above him. His eyes were a bright purple, his hair and skin were so pale he was almost white, and he adorned a creepy-yet-somehow-friendly smile. He looked completely normal, but there was just something off about the whole picture; how perfect it was.

"My name is Ivan. My sisters told me your name is Alfred. That's right, right?" Ivan smiled a little wider, showing his... fangs. Long, pointed, glistening white canines. This, this was definitely the Ivan he was looking for.

"Oh thank God you're the right one," he whispered to himself, albeit a little louder than he originally intended. The Russian flinched slightly. Alfred noticed and immediately tried to make up for his mistake. "Oh my gosh I forgot you're a vampire I'm so sorry!"

Ivan looked confused, to say the least. "I don't... You know what I am, and you're not afraid?"

"Well, I'd think that I wouldn't be afraid, since you're the only reason that I'm here right now."

"What do you mean?"

"I came looking for you. See, I need your help." Alfred already felt like he was submitting to the vampire, what with the positions they were in. 

"What do you need the help of a vampire for?"

"Not just any vampire; you, specifically." Alfred took a breath to steady his shot nerves. This may have been what he came for, but the task of actually asking for help was turning out to be a little harder than originally planned. "I...I need protection from my last master. Would you help me?"

Ivan cocked his head to the side in an almost wolfish manner. "What's in it for me if I do?" he inquired, almost catching Alfred's eye. Alfred quickly blinked and looked down; catching a vampire's eye was dangerous no matter who you are, even for other vampires. Lets them gain control over you, among other, more sinister things.

"Whatever you want, but I don't have much money, so that wouldn't be the smartest thing to ask for."

"No," Ivan laughed, "I have no use for some material thing that can be very easily acquired." He paused in his speaking, and Alfred was floundering desperately, trying to come up with something, anything, to pay him with. He was so deep in thought that he started when the Russia's silky voice purred out again. "I'd be willing to offer my personal protection if you became mine. Mine and mine alone." Ivan hung his arm over the side of the bed, tracing lines along the probably ancient stitching.

I did want another master to live under, Alfred thought to himself, But what if he's just as bad as Arthur had gotten? No matter; I ran away once, and I can do it again if I need to. Maybe borrow some money and go back home. Alfred argued back and forth with himself for 'most a minute, before finally delivering his answer:

"I'll do it."


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> now that i think about it, this universe is heavily based off of the mercy thompson universe, so if youve read that that's pretty much how the logic here works, with little additions and changes here and there for plot purposes or whatever

"I'll do it," he declared, blue eyes electrified with self-determination.

"Do what?" a distinctly feminine voice cut in. Alfred had been so distracted that he hadn't heard the bedroom door open.

"Hello Katyusha," Ivan addressed politely, keeping his eyes trained on the human on the floor.

"Hello Vanya," she (Alfred decided to call her Kat from now on) replied, leaning into the door frame. "There's breakfast in the kitchen downstairs when you both are ready. And I made tea, but I also found some coffee since I don't know what you like to drink," she offered, her attention pointed at Alfred, who in turn blushed at her hospitality.

"Thanks, miss! That's awfully kind of you," Alfred smiled and she nodded to him, turning and disappearing down the hall once more, not bothering to close the door behind her.

Ivan sighed and waved his hand in the direction of the door, and the wood swung on its hinges, clicking shut gently. Alfred gaped in awe, not having ever seen magic used so nonchalantly before.

Ivan gazed at the gold-haired human still collapsed on the floor, staring with childlike innocence at the small display. Oh yes, this boy would do quite nicely.

\------

"So, who was your last master? You seem pleasant and obedient enough. What drove you to leave?" Ivan asked him over the lip of the cup of hot tea and honey. Alfred stared at the sight; he had never actually seen a vampire eat or drink something that wasn't blood before. This, he believed, was why Arthur's cooking tasted like petrified couch stuffing.

The American hesitated before answering, looking down into his cup self-consciously. He didn't want the other to find out who he ran away from and send him back, but he also didn't want to not answer and make him angry, thus getting himself kicked out.

"I left because I was unhappy and I didn't want to be held there anymore." He answered as vaguely as possible, dancing around the first question and handling the second carefully. He didn't want Ivan to connect the dots yet, or ever.

"Your accent. It's not European," Ivan pointed out, tilting his head. "Where are you originally from?"

"I'm from the states. Born 'n raised in Southern Illinois, right next to the Gateway to the West!" Alfred smiled, dazzling white and Hollywood quality; then his expression switched to one of wistful longing. "Oh how I wish I could go back there someday."

"If you are from the United States, would you rather we spoke in English?" Ivan offered. Alfred sighed in relief, visibly becoming more relaxed and the slightest bit happier.

"I would so love it if we could go back to English for a while! Thank you! You know, I may be fluent in Russian but sometimes if you have to speak it for too long without any kind of break it gets a little taxing on the mind and-" he cut himself off mid-sentence, the beginnings of a blush working its way onto his face. "Sorry, I don't mean to run my mouth off like that. You know, they say that 'fools who run their mouths off wind up dead'."

Ivan, all the while the other one was talking, stayed very quiet and very still. This man, this human nonetheless, was just so... pure. So bright. Someone who should not belong to anyone, especially not one who delved in the shadows as much as he. Where could he have possibly have come from that belonging to the most terrifying creature in the entire continent would be a better alternative?

He snapped out of his contemplative daze when he noticed that Alfred hadn't said anything in a while. Instead, when Ivan focused once more, he noticed that the American had taken to looking at the stars outside of the window. "Strange; usually the curtains are closed."

Alfred looked to him, confused. "Why would you close off the outside at night? The stars are so pretty! And way out here, without all of the pollution and city lights, you can see so much more." The amount of awe in his voice was stunning. His young age was very apparent when he spoke freely like this.

_You have so much life. So much to give. Will I be the one to take it?_


	5. Chapter 5

***  
"What do you think of him?" he asked, resting his head on the edge of the bed. He was knelt on the floor, gazing happily at his new charge.

"I think that he'll be a good start if you want to go back to having a steady flock like you used to," the short haired woman put in, crossing the room and moving to stand behind the other, following his gaze and watching the gently sleeping figure on the bed.

"Well, I only want what's best for you, big brother."

"As do I," added a voice from the doorway.

"Then I believe that I will keep him. I just hope he doesn't leave me too."  
***

Alfred rushed through the kitchen, trying to see what all they had there and whether or not he could make pancakes with it. He had climbed up onto the counter and was reaching for an interesting looking box when he heard a voice from the doorway.

"When I went to your room this morning and you weren't there, I hadn't really expected you to be climbing the walls." Alfred yelped, losing his footing and tumbling to the floor. He braced himself for the pain of hitting the ground...

But it never came. He opened one eye apprehensively, then the other. When he did, he found that his face was mere inches from someone else's. The lavender eyes were crinkled at the sides with worry. "Are you okay?" Ivan asked. His breath was cold and Alfred could taste how clean it was.

"Uh-h, yeah, I think so. Think you could let me up, though?"

If vampires had blood, Ivan would have been blushing. "Of course! I'm very sorry; I don't mean to make you uncomfortable." He lifted the other up, setting him upright and choosing to look at the ground bashfully.

The young American found the sight rather endearing, and laughed quietly to himself before going back to trying to reach the box without having to climb the counter. Ivan noticed and walked over behind him. "If you just failed at reaching that, why are you doing it again?"

"Because," he said, crossing his arms and glaring at the box, "I need to have that box and I have no other way to get to it."

Ivan pointed to the box and flicked his wrist, sending it off of the shelf an into Alfred's hands. Alfred stared at it for a second, then muttered a short, "I forgot you could do that," under his breath.

"I have only one question for you: what are you going to attempt to be doing with a box of pasta?"

The American swore quietly. "I was going to make pancakes, but I can't find enough of the ingredients to make it." He pouted a little and put the box back into the cabnet, albeit a little lower than the original shelf.

"Pancakes... Oh, you mean blin! I can make blin with what I have here," he said, moving over to the counter and pulling various items out of various places and setting them down on the white surface. 

The two set about putting the dish together, the vampire teaching the other this and that about the origin of the food and telling any small stories he could fit in.

When they were done making it and had eaten, Alfred sipped some coffee, closing his eyes and sighing contentedly. "Wow. Those were amazing."

"They were. And thank you for letting me make them with you."

Alfred opened his eyes and met Ivan's, the light dancing off of them. "Of course. Why wouldn't I?" 

Ivan shook his head. "I don't know. It's just nice."

\--------

"Hey Ivan," Alfred called from his place on the floor. "When was the last time you changed out your mirrors?"

That is an odd question, he thought, looking up from his book. He saw Alfred sitting on the floor, small bits and pieced of metal and wires strewn about, and a camera and screw driver in his hands. "I wouldn't know. Why?"

"Because I wanted to show you something amazing." With that, he brought the camera sight up to his eye, catching a picture of the other.

A small piece of paper slid out of the bottom, which Alfred took out and shook. Ivan looked at him skeptically. "Alfred, I won't show up in a picture."

"Oh I know. But this isn't your average camera." He crawled on his knees over to him, resting his elbows on the arm of the chair and holding out the picture for the other to take. "It's an old Polaroid that I got from my dad way back when I was younger that I've fixed up since living with Ar- I mean, my last master. It has no mirrors, no silver. And since it's light capturing, not soul capturing like people used to think, you'll be able to show up in it!"

Ivan was stunned. He hadn't heard that there were ways to actually capture a vampire on film. He looked at the picture in wonder. "Where did you get a camera like this?"

"I didn't," Alfred beamed, "I engineered it myself, remember? I figured that I should put my basic knowledge of mechanics and optics to some use for once.

"We should show your sisters too! Who knows when the last time it was that they actually saw what they look like?" Ivan turned the little device over in his hands and nodded. 

"Yes, I would like to have another photograph of us all together." Ivan called for his sisters, each one entering the room about a minute later.

"What is it, Vanya?" Katyusha asked, moving to stand by her brother and the kneeling human on the floor. Natalia, once again, chose to hang in the doorway rather than approach Alfred, whom she was still wary of.

"You two stand together for a second," he told them, which they complied with, albeit rather questioningly. Quickly, before they could ask what he was doing, he snapped the picture.

"Big Brother, you know that we won't show up on that," Natalia looked at him in confusion, then darkly at Alfred. "If he put you up to this-"

"Just wait, sister. This is amazing." The small paper slid out of the bottom again, and he grabbed it and shook it, then smiled when it developed all the way. "Here."

Katyusha took the picture and gasped, showing it to the other woman and excitedly stuttering out something that Alfred could once again not understand. But the way that all of them seemed to light up at the small thing was enough for him, so he chose just to stand in the background and smile.

A few words were exchanged between the siblings, some nodding and gestures sprinkled in to the mix. Then, both Katyusha and Natalia walked over to him, the shorter one walking just behind her sister. 

Katyusha put her hands on his shoulders and locked eyes, smiling a little. "Thank you, so much." With that, she pulled him into a tight embrace. He stood there, completely caught off guard, before returning it tentatively. Natalia stepped up and rested a hand on his arm, nodding to him and stepping back.

"I guess that was pretty cool, huh?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> finding ways around old legends with modern technology is my kink (lol)
> 
> but seriously though, originally they thought that reflections were actually views of the soul, and so since vampires didnt have a soul they wouldn't show up. Add silver to the mix and you can keep this rule for quite a long time, up until fairly recently when they stopped putting silver as the reflective parts of mirrors. And since there'd be no silver in this camera (unlike quite a lot of others, including digital ones like your phone) they would all show up (in theory anyways. i dont know any vampires that I can test this with)


	6. Chapter 6

Alfred tilted his neck to the side, quivering in excitement and a trace of fear. Ivan pulled back, running a tongue over his sharp teeth. "Fedya, if you don't stop moving I won't be able to do this with you conscious."

Alfred shivered again, before finally managing to hold himself still. "Would you rather just hold me still?" he purred suggestively, winking. Ivan rolled his eyes.

"If you wish, little one." Ivan brought the other's wrists over his head, holding them with one hand and setting the other on Alfred's jaw, tilting it upwards. "Are you sure you're ready?"

The American hummed an affirmative, closing his eyes and taking a breath. Slowly, Ivan leaned down and touched the light gold skin, feeling where the blood ran the fastest, and puncturing its surface and drawing the red liquid out.

Alfred sighed, and his whole body seemed to relax. Ivan sucked gently on the spot for a minute before pulling and licking the wound, the subtle magics in his saliva closing it immediately.

"There," Ivan whispered, sitting back on his heels and releasing his grip on the man beneath him. He paused uncertainly, as Alfred had not yet opened his eyes again. "Are-are you alright?" His voice almost had a squeak to it when he asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Alfred sighed, finally opening his blue eyes lazily. "I'd just forgotten that feeding doesn't have to hurt."

Was his last Master truly that careless with something so precious? the Russian thought to himself. "I suppose that must be one of the reasons you left." He worded it as a statement, but posed it as a question.

Alfred sat up and laughed nervously, subconsciously moving his arms to hug himself loosely around his middle."Yeah, one of the reasons..." he trailed off.

The two sat in silence for a moment, before Ivan chose to break it again. "So it didn't hurt, right?"

Alfred drew confidence from the other's lack thereof. "No," he said, "it didn't hurt." He brought a hand up to where Ivan's bite had been. "But it does feel all tingly." He giggled, and it was such a light and sweet sound. A perfect match for his bright personality.

"Then I guess this was a successful first true feeding, no?"

\---------  
\---------

Alfred had been with the odd Slavic trio for almost two months now and in that time he and they had grown much closer. He had a job at a small streetcorner bakery, putting to use what his mother had taught him when he was just a boy, and volunteered at a local animal shelter, walking the dogs and playing with the cats.

As he was walking home from the bakery one late afternoon, he saw a small crow with a pale gray stripe on it's wing and a small note tied to it's leg. "Eli?" he called out to it. The bird looked in his direction and, upon spotting him, hopped over and flew up onto Alfred's outstretched arm. He looked around before bolting into an alleyway, setting the bird on top of a nearby garbage can lid and pulling the small paper off of it.

Quickly, he unfolded it and his eyes skipped over the contents. It was a letter from Matthew back at Kirkland manor. The note stated as follows:

A,

I've sent Eli with a letter in the hopes that it reaches you soon. Ever since you've left, Arthur has cracked down hard on the rest of us. He checks all of the mail every time it comes and goes (which is why I had to do it this way). He's become stricter, more violent.

And, the main reason I'm contacting you is because he is obsessing over you. He's got people looking everywhere for you. I just hope you've changed phones so he can't track it anymore.

Please, stay safe. Write back when you can. Send Eli.

-M

He looked at the note, horror displayed on his features. "I guess I'm glad my phone got destroyed in Belgium," he muttered to himself dryly. Quietly, he shoved the paper in his pocket and picked up the crow, practically sprinting home.

He burst through the front door to the house, not acknowledging the greeting that was given to him and instead opting for running up the stairs, taking the steps two at a time and running into his room.

Alfred grabbd a notebook and a pencil, scribbling somethng quickly onto the page and setting it to the side. He set the bird and the note down on the desk, walking out and calling behind him, "I'll be back with something to eat, so stay there."

He stepped lightly down the stairs, where he was immediately met with three pairs of eyes, reflecting various levels of concern and confusion. 

"Who were you talking to up there, Fedya?" Ivan piped up first, before either of the sisters could get a word in.

Alfred tugged at the bottom of his jacket nervously. "No one..."

"Alfred, do not lie to me. Who is up there?" Ivan's voice was darker, and Alfred flinched, folding into himself and letting out a small whine.

"A pet of mine."

"A...pet?" Katyusha cocked her head to the side. "How long have you had a pet? I haven't smelled it on you before."

The American started wringing his wrists while he spoke. "It's not really a pet. I mean he is, but also not and I raised him with my brother and crows are very smart so he remembers us when he sees us so we use him to send messages that we don't want other's to see and-"

"Fedya, slow down. Why did you think that you'd need to keep something like that a secret from me?" 

Alfred shook his head, not answering, and looked at the floor. 

A screechy sound echoed from up the stairs, and all three Slavic's heads snapped to it. "It's still up there," Natalia muttered, brushing past him and climbing the stairs faster than she humanly should have been able to. She was followed closely by her siblings, leaving Alfred to stand at the bottom of the stairs, internally panicking. 

What if they hurt him and I can't get another letter back to Matthew? In his panic, he did the only thing he could think to do. He whistled and called the crow's name, then watched as it turned the corner and dove down the stairs a second later. Alfred caught him and cradled him in his arms, falling to the floor and just resting there, stroking the patch of gray feathers. "They found the note, didn't they?" he asked it. Eli cooed in response.

Sure enough, when Ivan descended the stairs once more, he held a small piece of paper in his hand. "Alfred, explain this to me."


	7. Chapter 7

"Alfred, would you explain this to me?"

What color that was left in Alfred's face drained from it. "It's just- just a letter from- from my brother. Nothing to worry yourselves about," he managed, not moving from his spot on the floor. He was still stroking the pale spot with a finger absentmindedly.

"If you will not tell me I'm going to have to drag it out of you, Fedya," Ivan warned. "And I don't want to have to do that to you."

Alfred tucked his knees close to his chest, a soft whine escaping him. Then, in a very soft voice, "Please don't do that." He looked up and actually made eye contact with the Russian man. Alfred's eyes were dull and unseeing, and his cheeks were wet, presumably from tears. He looked distant, almost as if he wasn't there. He got on to his knees and crawled closer to him, then sat back on his heels and brought his hands together, pleading. "Please don't punish me again. I can't take it. Don't leave me alone again, Master, please! I'll be good I promise!" His voice was hysterical. 

Alfred collapsed against Ivan's legs, a silently sobbing mess. The only sound that came from him was a soft chanting of "I'm sorry,", over and over. Ivan could do nothing but gape at the human. _What did he do to you?_

Katyusha knelt down, one hand on the floor and one reaching out to touch Alfred's arm. When she made contact, he flinched and hiccoughed. "Please don't."

"Shh, it's okay," she whispered in Russian, drawing him closer to her. He let himself be moved, and started to calm down when she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, still whispering in the foreign tongue. Alfred took a shaky breath to calm himself, and sat up, scrubbing at his face with the backs of his hands.

He made a sound that looked like a pitiful excuse for a chuckle, but sounded more like a cough. "I'm sorry. I don't know that I wanted you to see me like that ever." Alfred refused to look at any of them. Ivan squatted down in front of him.

"Alfred," Ivan drawled out, "Your last master was Arthur Kirkland, master of the British Isles. Your brother's name starts with an M, and he was kept there with you. And from the way this sounds, they were rather fond of you. Am I right?" Alfred nodded slowly. "I figured as much. This is why you needed my protection." Another nod.

"How did you manage to escape him? I've heard that he's very powerful and that others have died trying to do what you did." Katyusha's eyes were wide.

"That is not what is important now," Natalia snapped at her. She turned her attention to the human. "So you are only using my brother?"

Alfred shook his head furiously. "No, no, no. I do love it here; far more than I ever could have dreamed. I just needed a place to go at the time, promise!"

"How can we know that you aren't lying to us?"

Ivan held his hand up, closing his eyes and letting out a long breath. "Sister, I do not believe that he is lying to us. What reason would he have? I would think that he would have told us about Master Kirkland sooner if that was the case."

Alfred nodded, looking like a dear in headlights. "Please don't be upset with me."

Ivan carded a hand through the other's hair, ending the motion with his hand resting on Alfred's cheek. A small smile crept onto his face. "I'm not."

\--------

Alfred was sitting cross-legged on the dark red couch, scribbling things down into a yellow pad of paper, occasionally cursing quietly and scratching something out. He was so focused on what he was doing that he hadn't noticed when a body had joined him, sharing a nice cool with his heated skin. 

"What are you doing, Fedya?" he asked, startling him out of his thoughts.

"Mother of fuck!" he exclaimed, dropping the pad on the floor in his panic. He flailed, trying to catch it before it hit the floor and failing. Ivan giggled, making Alfred glare at him heatedly. "Dude, you gotta stop sneaking up on me like that."

"But why?" he asked innocently, wrapping his arms around Alfred's shoulders. "It's always so fun to watch how you react."

Alfred pouted, leaning forward to pick up his papers and grumbling, "It is not."

"Sure it is! You're aways so animated. It's quite refreshing for me."

"Refreshing..." Alfred's voice petered out, and he became lost in thought again. Ivan nudged him persistantly.

"You never answered my question, Fedya."

Alfred sighed. "I'm trying to decide what to write back. There's a lot I need to tell him and I don't know how old this letter is. It could easily have been an entire month or two ago when he sent it. Should I tell him where I am? Should I..." his voice faded out, becoming much softer than usual. "Should I tell him that I'm coming back for him?"

Ivan pulled back and Alfred looked at him, meeting eyes for all of half a second before looking back down again. "I do not think it wise for you to leave my territory again, especially so soon. I do not want you doing something foolish and getting yourself taken by some other party or getting hurt. What if Kirkland were to find you and catch you?"

Alfred scoffed and rolled his eyes. "What's the worst he's going to do, kill me?"

Ivan put a hand on his chin, lifting his face so he didn't have the choice of looking away. "Alfred, there are worse things than dying."


	8. Chapter 8

"How could this have happened?" Arthur screeched, slamming his hands down on his desk so hard that it cracked. 

"Arthur, please calm down," Matthew pleaded in a small voice. "Who knows what he was thinking? Maybe it was just a spur of the moment thing. You know how Alfred is, always exploring-"

"No," he growled. "That's not what this is. I felt him leave my flock. I felt him renounce me, Matthew!" Arthur lunged over the desk, throwing Matthew to his knees. 

He grabbed his chin roughly, forcing his gaze up to meet his own. Fire danced in an emerald sea, and there was only fear in the human's glazed amethyst depths. His eyes looked hollow, but Arthur didn't seem to notice. Or to care.

"Where. Is. He." Each word was sharp and broken apart from the rest of them.

It took everything in his power to not answer, and instead he closed his eyes tightly, whimpering pathetically.

Arthur snorted in disgust, throwing Matthew to the floor. Matthew coughed into the back of his hand, but didn't say anything.

"Get up," the vampire spat down at him. He scrambled to get back up. Arthur turned to him. "If you don't tell me where he went, I'll be forced to drag it out of Toby."

"Leave Toby and Jett out of this!" he tried, desperate. "They don't know anything! And they're just boys. They wouldn't be able to handle it!" Tears started to make tracks down his face.

Arthur smirked. "So you do know something, then, Matthew?" Matthew's face fell. Arthur stepped closer to him, leaning in and nipping at his ear. It bled. "Tell me, love, why did he leave?" He traced a finger up his throat menacingly. "And don't lie to me."

Matthew's pulse quickened, and he swallowed dryly. "H-he didn't want to stay," he stammered quietly. 

Arthur hummed, still too close for Matthew to move. "And? Where did he go?" Matthew shook his head. Arthur's lip twitched, and he nipped at him again. "Matthew, where?"

Matthew gritted his teeth, but couldn't stop the word from leaving his mouth. "East."

Arthur stepped back abruptly. Matthew exhaled in relief, shoulders relaxing. "Of course he did. Where does he think he's going to go? No one is going to keep him from me. Not in Europe."

He shifted uncomfortably, hoping that Arthur couldn't smell his new fear laced over the fear-scent already beginning to grow stale. Arthur twitched, then turned and swiftly left the room, shutting the door behind him without touching it.

Matthew took a few steps back until he bumped into the wall, then slid down it. He found himself staring at the floor, seemingly in a daze. His ear hurt from the nips, his jaw hurt from being grabbed, and the rest of his body hurt from being tossed around like a doll. 

A breeze made its way into the dimly lit room. His eyes fixed on the dust dancing through the air. He felt numb, idly tracing patterns on his thigh and watching the little imperfections in the air. A soft buzzing sound started up in his ears, but he ignored it.  It was par for the course at this point.

After an indiscernible amount of time passed, a soft knocking sounded at the door. He picked his head up to face it, fearing that Arthur had come back to question him further about Alfred's whereabouts. Instead, a small, round face poked through the doorway. "Matthew?" Toby called to him, stepping inside and shutting the door just as quietly as he had opened it. Matthew was grateful for the softness of his sound-making, but couldn't muster the energy to say so. The boy shuffled closer to him. "Are you okay?"

Matthew sighed, then nodded. "Yeah, Toby. I'm okay. What do you need?"

Toby shrugged, instead opting for glancing shyly to him, then at the floor. "Nothin. I was just wondering if, um, I could maybe... sit with you?" Matthew chuckled a bit and nodded, opening his arms invitingly. Toby smiled and sat between his legs, snuggling up close and sighing happily when the American-Frenchman wrapped him in a warm embrace.

Matthew rested his head on the other's, taking to matching their slow breaths. "So," he mumbled, "Where's Jett? At work?"

"Nah, he's out tending the gardens or something again." Toby yawned, and Matthew was reminded again of just how young the poor boy was, and how little of life he would actually get to experience. Maybe he'd have to try to send him away with his brother if he ever came back for them.

"I see... Hey, Toby?"

"Yeah?"

"How are you doing in school?" He was attempting small talk. Trying to play the role of a big brother. A role that Arthur sure wasn't doing, and wasn't letting Jett do much of.

Toby shrugged, then yawned again and curled up a little more. "A'ight..." His eyes closed, and he drifted off. Matthew let out a low laugh, then pulled the boy closer to him, feeding off of his heat.

"Good." His voice dropped to a whisper. "Someday you'll be able to leave this place and live a good, full life. Even if it's the last thing I do." With that, he, too, dozed off, head falling back and bumping softly against the wall behind him.

It was warm in the beam of sun that found itself resting on them. And in his slumber, Matthew smiled for the first time in a while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright this is the end of the pre-written chapters. Everything after this point will be newnew


End file.
